About 2km out into the Pacific. Beautiful day. 20 knot sea breaze and a sweet setup. Having a ball.
So I muff a gybe out "there" and of course the rig goes straight down, and then goes under that board and all that what-not. So I'm going to be water starting in a minute or so when everything finally gets itself sorted, against the current and yada-yada. I bide my time until the rig comes back up.
And then, not 10m from me a ****ing "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHTTTT!!!!" goes off and it's fn loud and I feel like me heart has stopped and started like it's doing the bus stop and I'm so fn shocked, and frankly scared half to death (I believe that's somewhere around Tamworth) I **** me pants and look to me starboard to see...
... a Russian submarine surfacing.
Now, you might ask me how I know it was a Russian submarine, them being usually all black and secretive and such, but there was a clear hammer and sickle "resplendent' and "proud" against its dark, submariner, somewhat whale-like exterior, behemoth-like hull. And, this hammer and sickle in amongst the particularly threatening "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHHHHTTT!!!" made itself loud and clear what it was, even though it (obviously) made no obvious, conscious sense whatsoever. (!)
"WFT?!", I believe is the nomenclature of our time.
The top unscrews, slowly, its cool steel making a metallic sliding sound against the corkscrew mechanism. And, it, pops, off. Splash.
Then, a cork bottle, and then another ("pop-pop") and two, beautiful girls wearing nothing but russian, fur hats emerge out of the submarine. Smiling. Somewhat seductively I might say.
And about this time I say to meself: "EP haven't you been drinking all night? And haven't you been given little "treats" by whatever lithe young creatures have been professionally drinking with you? Naked? And haven't you and your friends been eating/drinking/smoking peyote while you are mountain climbing in Nepal?"
We had been. It was all in my tent at only 15,000 ft. We were having a ball.
That's gold!
What happened the day after?
I can add my dolphin story to the mix..
Middle Harbour in Sydney, two black fins 1 metre from my board. Would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't literally watched the documentary about bull shark tracking in Sydney harbour that very same week.
About 2km out into the Pacific. Beautiful day. 20 knot sea breaze and a sweet setup. Having a ball.
So I muff a gybe out "there" and of course the rig goes straight down, and then goes under that board and all that what-not. So I'm going to be water starting in a minute or so when everything finally gets itself sorted, against the current and yada-yada. I bide my time until the rig comes back up.
And then, not 10m from me a ****ing "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHTTTT!!!!" goes off and it's fn loud and I feel like me heart has stopped and started like it's doing the bus stop and I'm so fn shocked, and frankly scared half to death (I believe that's somewhere around Tamworth) I **** me pants and look to me starboard to see...
... a Russian submarine surfacing.
Now, you might ask me how I know it was a Russian submarine, them being usually all black and secretive and such, but there was a clear hammer and sickle "resplendent' and "proud" against its dark, submariner, somewhat whale-like exterior, behemoth-like hull. And, this hammer and sickle in amongst the particularly threatening "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHHHHTTT!!!" made itself loud and clear what it was, even though it (obviously) made no obvious, conscious sense whatsoever. (!)
"WFT?!", I believe is the nomenclature of our time.
The top unscrews, slowly, its cool steel making a metallic sliding sound against the corkscrew mechanism. And, it, pops, off. Splash.
Then, a cork bottle, and then another ("pop-pop") and two, beautiful girls wearing nothing but russian, fur hats emerge out of the submarine. Smiling. Somewhat seductively I might say.
And about this time I say to meself: "EP haven't you been drinking all night? And haven't you been given little "treats" by whatever lithe young creatures have been professionally drinking with you? Naked? And haven't you and your friends been eating/drinking/smoking peyote while you are mountain climbing in Nepal?"
We had been. It was all in my tent at only 15,000 ft. We were having a ball.
This is worthy of a Fangman award for literature!
Then, a cork bottle, and then another ("pop-pop") and two, beautiful girls wearing nothing but russian, fur hats emerge out of the submarine. Smiling. Somewhat seductively I might say.
I bet the Russians are attempting to kidnap you back to Russia. They are going to use you as STUD to produce as many good windsurfers as you can endure
I believe ex-PM Harold Holt met the same fate as you did. The Chinese took him back in a submarine while he went spear fishing. Right into PeterMac's territory now
About 2km out into the Pacific. Beautiful day. 20 knot sea breaze and a sweet setup. Having a ball.
So I muff a gybe out "there" and of course the rig goes straight down, and then goes under that board and all that what-not. So I'm going to be water starting in a minute or so when everything finally gets itself sorted, against the current and yada-yada. I bide my time until the rig comes back up.
And then, not 10m from me a ****ing "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHTTTT!!!!" goes off and it's fn loud and I feel like me heart has stopped and started like it's doing the bus stop and I'm so fn shocked, and frankly scared half to death (I believe that's somewhere around Tamworth) I **** me pants and look to me starboard to see...
... a Russian submarine surfacing.
Now, you might ask me how I know it was a Russian submarine, them being usually all black and secretive and such, but there was a clear hammer and sickle "resplendent' and "proud" against its dark, submariner, somewhat whale-like exterior, behemoth-like hull. And, this hammer and sickle in amongst the particularly threatening "PPPFFFFSSSSSSHHHHTTT!!!" made itself loud and clear what it was, even though it (obviously) made no obvious, conscious sense whatsoever. (!)
"WFT?!", I believe is the nomenclature of our time.
The top unscrews, slowly, its cool steel making a metallic sliding sound against the corkscrew mechanism. And, it, pops, off. Splash.
Then, a cork bottle, and then another ("pop-pop") and two, beautiful girls wearing nothing but russian, fur hats emerge out of the submarine. Smiling. Somewhat seductively I might say.
And about this time I say to meself: "EP haven't you been drinking all night? And haven't you been given little "treats" by whatever lithe young creatures have been professionally drinking with you? Naked? And haven't you and your friends been eating/drinking/smoking peyote while you are mountain climbing in Nepal?"
We had been. It was all in my tent at only 15,000 ft. We were having a ball.
Good, Zoolander, but good.
There was this one time....
I cruised past half a seal floating in the water...never saw the other half!
I'd be worrying about the diner coming back for the half you saw..